


Lady and Gentleman

by Laylah



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Age Play, Decadence, F/M, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-10
Updated: 2008-06-10
Packaged: 2017-10-20 07:19:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/210168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She looks like such a tiny little thing, gangly-legged like a colt, narrow girl hips that’ll never widen, not as long as she’s one of the Noah. Her opponents have a terrible tendency to mistake her for a real child.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lady and Gentleman

He draws a cigarette, finds matches, lights one with the other and breathes in the sulfur tang that comes before the tobacco really catches. He’s early, or the Earl’s late, as if there’s a difference. Tyki leans back in his chair and watches the way the smoke curls up into the still air, weaving patterns. On the other side of the room, Rhode is bent over the back of the couch, watching something on the other side — an akuma squirming or a window to what the exorcists are up to, Tyki doesn’t really care.

“The Earl’s going to tell you to sit like a lady when he gets here,” he says. Rhode’s skirt is short enough that he can see the entire hand’s breadth of bare gray thigh between the tops of her stockings and the lace of her panties. She looks like such a tiny little thing, gangly-legged like a colt, narrow girl hips that’ll never widen, not as long as she’s one of the Noah. Her opponents have a terrible tendency to mistake her for a real child.

She laughs, looking back over her shoulder at him. “Are you going to try to make me behave now, too?”

“Never,” Tyki says. He watches her feet kick at the air, her knees sunk into the soft cushions of the couch. “You’re a brat, but I like you.”

“Flirt,” Rhode says. She wiggles, showing off her ass, a little smirk tugging up one side of her mouth.

Tyki tosses away the cigarette; it doesn’t matter where it lands. “You’re calling me that?” He gets up, crosses the floor. His footsteps tick against the tiles. She wouldn’t be showing off for him like this if she didn’t want him to come give her some attention.

“What are you going to do about it?” she asks. She spreads her knees further.

“Keep you entertained, I suppose,” Tyki says. He kneels behind her, unbuttons his pants. The suede of his gloves feels good against his cock. The lace of her panties, too, though it’s a different kind of good. He presses between her legs, nudging against her just a little too hard, crushing the texture of the lace into the softness of her cunt until she squirms.

“Tyki,” Rhode says. It’s almost a whine. None of this ‘lord’ crap when it’s just the two of them.

He smiles. “More like this?” He slides in with his power, not bothering to push her panties out of the way, incorporeal until he’s all the way in and then touching her, filling her, all at once, so she squirms.

“Fuck,” she says, kicking a little.

“Language,” Tyki says, not because he cares — he doesn’t — but because she makes him a brat, too.

Rhode squirms on his cock. “You’re too big,” she complains. “Ah, Tyki, slow down.”

Tyki grins, snapping his hips a little harder. “Is that why you’re so interested in Allen Walker?” he says. “You think he’d fit you better?”

“I’m not any more interested in him than you are,” Rhode says. She’s pushed one hand down under her body, inside her panties. Tyki can feel her fingertips there, where she’s playing with herself now. She’s too selfish, too smart, to let him have all the fun.

“He does feel really good inside,” Tyki says. She does, too, of course. And she can take it better.

“Per-vert,” Rhode sings. She squeezes tight around him, hard, deliberate, and turns her head to bite her own shoulder, because she doesn’t come unless somebody’s in pain. Tyki waits for her to finish — if she’ll act like a lady he’ll fuck like a gentleman — before he lets go, and it’s treason to think it feels better when he’s human — so he doesn’t, not even for a second. Not at all.

There’s no mess on him when he pulls out, because he can’t see the point of letting it touch him when he’s supposed to look nice for dinner.

Rhode twists, looks back at him, smirking a little. “You want to see what he’s up to?” she asks.

Tyki shrugs. “Sure,” he says. It’ll pass the time. He moves over next to her, throws an arm over her shoulder, and they look down through her window into the human world.


End file.
